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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22545742">Stay Alive for Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_dead_girl/pseuds/little_dead_girl'>little_dead_girl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Newt has maze PTSD, Newt is super touchy, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, So much angst, Teresa is a horrible person/ex, Thomas is totally bi, WICKED is not good, and super confident about it, more tags about that later when I actually know what I’m doing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:02:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22545742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_dead_girl/pseuds/little_dead_girl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This exists somewhere between the books and the movies because I’m choosing the timeline now, mwahahaha. </p><p>Starts from Ben attacking Thomas on his first day and goes until I decide to stop. </p><p>Same idea as the OG story but Newt and Thomas fell in love before the maze and have to find that again. Teresa is Thomas’s awful ex who will do anything to stop them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner), teresa agnes/thomas (mentioned)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Ben!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ben, calm down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy shuck..”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ben, get away from him!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas’s ears rang with voices in the echo chamber that was the skeletal expanse of trees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/——-/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First he was alone, wandering, thinking, existing then- WHAM! A full force of body weight slammed directly into his side, sending him and this projectile of an attacker tumbling into the leaves and dirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If a Thomas falls in the forest and no one is around to see it, does it still make a sound? He really shucking hoped so. He scrambled to his feet, dashing madly through the trees, footsteps thundering not far behind him. Thomas took a risk at glancing back as he ran, registering the boy hot on his heels. Ben. He’d seen him in the homestead not long before, sick and screeching like his blood was pumping with hot oil; which didn’t seem too far off as his veins bulged black through his mottled skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>HELP!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Thomas screamed, lungs tearing themselves apart to keep him alive. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>OH MY GOD PLEASE SOMEONE HEL-</span>
  </em>
  <span>oof!” His cry was cut short as Ben tackled into his back. Thomas’s head hit the root of a tree with a nauseating crack, but the adrenaline kept his eyes wide and blood pumping as he flipped himself around to try to push the other boy off of him. His vision swam and Ben looked otherworldly in the haze, like a vision of a demon ready to call a claim on his soul. Bloodshot eyes bore into him and his teeth gnashed with coffee coloured spit foaming down his lips. He straddled Thomas’s waist, keeping him pinned in the mud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gonna… </span>
  <em>
    <span>f-fuckin’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>kill… YOU, TRAITOR SCUM! I’LL-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woah, Ben, wait,” Thomas’s voice shook, head pounding in both pain and confusion, “Please what are you-“ He couldn’t finish the thought, or any thought for that matter as Ben’s hand shot at his throat with a rabid growl, pressing Thomas into the dirt as if he could make him sink through the ground and drop down to hell if he just pushed hard enough. In his other hand was a knife, caked in rust and dirt but clearly still sharp enough to run his captive through. Thomas shook violently, struggling to push away at both of Ben’s hands but clearly getting weaker as each moment without air did nothing favourable for his already injured head. That’s when he heard it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ben!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Footsteps echoed in the tree line as the Gladers appeared around them. Just in time too, because Thomas was losing his grip on… just about everything. His hold on Ben’s wrist that hovered above his chest with the knife, his eyesight that was cutting in and out with black creeping in at the edges, his consciousness and even his willingness to retain it. This was too much. First full day in this nightmare and he’s already about to die. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ben, calm down.” It was Alby’s voice, harsh and warning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s h</span>
  <em>
    <span>is fa</span>
  </em>
  <span>ult,” Ben spat, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>saw </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, HE di</span>
  <em>
    <span>d this.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ben-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’LL KILL HIM, LET ME GUT HIM RIGHT HERE!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You won’t,” Alby ordered, motioning for the Gladers at his sides to rush at the crazed boy. There were murmurs and gasps and curses around the gathering, most of which were indiscernible over Bens infuriated roars. Hands gripped the boys clothes, trying to pull him back but he fought their grips. The distraction was enough for his grip to lift from Thomas’s bruised neck, giving him enough purchase to wheeze in a desperate gulp of air. The freedom was short lived though, as Ben managed to slip the hands restraining him, knife coming down to tear a gash in the skin on the side of Thomas’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ben, get away from him!” It was Newt this time, stood somewhere Thomas couldn’t see. His torn flesh burned, nerves screaming angrily at the gash as warm blood started soaking his shirt sleeve. More Gladers rushed forward and finally pulled Ben off of Thomas’s waist, allowing the gasping boy to scramble backwards. He felt hands on him, one on the back of his head and another pressing over the split in his skin. There were shouts and chaos all around him, but all Thomas could do was look up to see Newt, knelt behind him looking down in concern. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Newt…” he croaked, body shaking in the other boys hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thomas, hold on,” Newt tried, “You’re ok, you’re- hey no, NO, don’t close your eyes!” Thomas’s eyelids were fluttering, his head pounding and adrenaline fading from his system quickly leaving him feeling completely drained. He’d just rest his eyes for a moment, he’d just… “Thomas, stay awake! Damn it, Thomas, Tommy!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/——-/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Newt,” he turned, seeing Alby enter the med hut. He glanced down at the younger boy, the neck of his shirt pushed down over his shoulder where a gause had been applied. Around his throat hung a necklace bruises, quickly turning from red to purple on his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Newt didn’t look up, simply replying, “He’s not awake yet. I’ll get you when he’s up and you can run your yap at ‘im or whate-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to talk to you,” the Glade leader interrupted. He glanced at the med jacks in the hut, nodding for them to leave them be. They gave each other wary looks, but made their way out quietly. “I saw your face when he came out of the box yesterday. I didn’t push it, thought maybe I was the one seein’ things. But you had that look on yourself again when we found him and Ben in the woods. An’ now you’re sittin here… You recognise him, don’t you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a question, and Newt sighed, pushing at his teeth with his tongue while he thought. “Yeah,” he eventually said, “Yeah, I do. Don’t know how, or anythin’ else about him. But I knew his name before he did. The moment we opened up that ruddy shuckin’ box. I already knew his name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alby thought on that, acknowledging the admission with a grunt. “And you trust him?” He asked, giving the unconscious boy another apprehensive once over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Newt replied softly, not taking even a moment to consider his answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope you’re sure about that,” Alby said. And with that, he left the hut, leaving Newt alone with the unconscious newbie. His eyelashes fluttered lightly while he slept, and Newt couldn’t help but wonder what he was dreaming about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am,” he said to himself, settling back in his chair, content to watch those eyelashes until they’d eventually open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/——-/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt warm when he woke up. Not unpleasant warmth, comfortable. There were fingers brushing through his hair, softly, gently. It felt familiar, like a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. He tried to chase the familiarity, but the more he tried the more his head started to ache. Then his arm. Then his eyes shot open. Ben. He’d been in the forest and then Ben-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey relax,” a familiar voice shushed the mounting panic, the hand in his hair moving down to his cheek to make him focus. Thomas locked eyes with Newt, his face blank but for the tiniest hint of concern hidden on his brow. He gave a half smirk, washing away the rest of the visible worry, and giving a small pat on the boy’s cheek, “Welcome back, Greenie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas took a deep breath, throat and lungs still sore from the attack earlier today… </span>
  <em>
    <span>that was today right?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “How long-?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just a couple hours, don’t you worry yourself,” Newt cut him off knowingly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about Ben?” Thomas was surprised at how horse his voice sounded, but quickly decided that was not his biggest concern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing for you to worry about anymore,” Newt stated, expression completely unreadable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Newt, what-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s being banished tonight. No I’m not gonna explain it to you, if you want to see for yourself fine, if not then don’t. But decision’s already been made by the Keepers. He’s off his bloody rocker and tryin’ to kill another Glader is the number one way to get yerself in a heapin’ pile o’ klunk. He knew that, he’ll pay for it.” Newt looked grim, but his voice was matter of fact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s sick, it wasn’t his fault,” Thomas tried, only half believing his own words. Newt considered him for a moment, hand still on his cheek and thumb moving slightly. He looked about ready to say something when a loud alarm went off, echoing through the Glade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Newt stood up, going to the door of the med hut to look out. Thomas could hear people running past. “You stay here,” Newt ordered without a glance back, attention clearly drawn to the commotion outside, before disappearing into the sun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not shuckin’ likely,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Thomas though, not sure if he’d used the Gladers slang ironically or not. He pushed himself into a sitting position and swung his legs off the cot, taking a moment to catch himself as his head began to spin slightly. It took him a beat to shake it off before he pushed himself up and made his way out to follow the crowd of boys. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d gathered around the box, clamouring around it with excited and curious chatter. As Thomas approached the outskirts of the group, he fell along side Chuck. “What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re awake, Greenie! Glad to see my friend didn’t die in less than 24 hours of being here. And I dunno, that alarm usually means a newbie is coming up. But you just got here yesterday, so there shouldn’t be another till next month.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The box doors opened and Thomas heard someone jump down to it with a metallic thunk. The chattering had quieted to a hushed whisper, except for a voice calling out, “What’s down there, Newt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t a reply straight away, but eventually Thomas heard the boy reply uneasily, “It’s a girl. I think she’s dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this point, the crowd started noticing Thomas, and they backed away slowly. He felt dizzy and was pretty sure it wasn’t from the concussion. A path cleared in front of him to the box, and Chuck gave him a nudge telling him to step forward. Alby was on the other side of the box from him, and narrowed his eyes as Thomas stepped towards the edge. Newt looked up too, looking slightly annoyed, probably because Thomas hadn’t listened to being told to stay put. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the girl’s eyes blew open, startled and unfocused. She gasped like her soul had just reentered her body, then made direct eye contact with a boy standing above the box. “Thomas…” she rasped, before falling back into unconsciousness. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Alright shuckface, what do ya know about her,” Gally roared, getting right up in Thomas’s face with hot breath rushing out of his flared nostrils. Alby had called the Keepers to gather in the Homestead for a meeting. The Keepers and Thomas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” he replied, looking around at the other Keepers. No one looked convinced. “Seriously? What exactly do you think I’m supposed to know? I came here with nothing but my damn name just like the rest of you! Lay off!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You positive, ‘cause it sure sounded like she knew you,” Winston scoffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas looked around at the group, searching for anyone to back him up. His eyes eventually landed on Newt, but the boy was staring at the ground, jaw tight. “I’m positive! Excuse me, but I’m pretty sure I’d say something if I recognised a half dead girl who came out of a hole in the ground. I wish I recognised her! I wish I remembered </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” He noticed Newt look up at this, something calculating and unsure in his eyes, but the rest of his face stayed stoney. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Man up, Greenie, this isn’t personal,” Alby growled, “but clearly you’re a bigger part of this than just another newbie. First the clunk Ben was going off about, the girl and that note-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ben wasn’t right in the head, he was stung,” Minoh stated, “Coulda just been that Thomas boy here was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ben could’ve gone ape on anyone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh so it’s just a coincidence then?” Gally snorted, “I don’t shucking think so. Nothings been right since this slinthead got here. I say we toss him over the cliff or send him off with Ben tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut your bloody gob, Gally,” Newt rounded on him, suddenly looking ready to throw a punch. They were squared up face to face, and though Gally was bigger, Thomas would’ve rather taken him on than Newt any day. The boy was beyond intimidating when he wanted to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright that’s enough,” Albys voice rumbled through the room like a thunder clap, “He’s not going anywhere until I’ve got some shucking answers about this whole mess.” He then turned to Thomas, “I believe ya that you don’t got a clue,” he paused, “For now at least. But if you think of anything. Remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you will be telling me </span>
  <em>
    <span>immediately</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Got it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas nodded, “Yeah ok, got it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/——-/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So wait this is nuts, what a crazy day, huh? I mean first you almost get murdered, then that chick comes up from the box, then you get to be in a meeting with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keepers </span>
  </em>
  <span>for clunks sake. Your head must be spinnin’, dude! Oh yeah, how is your head actually? And your shoulder? And what about-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chuck, stop…” Thomas bit quietly, putting his head in his hands with elbows resting on the crooked picnic table. Frypan had made stew for the hungry Gladers, and Thomas had finished it all just waiting for Chuck to stop yammering. He was sore, but mostly he was confused. He wanted to be excited about his new life, or at least comfortable with a sense of normalcy. But it’s like Gally had said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothings been right since he got here.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Maybe all the weird stuff going on really was his fault somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuck started rambling again, talking about the gardens or something. Thomas let his hands drop back to the table, fiddling anxiously with his fingers. He looked around at the rest of the eating Gladers, watched them go about their day, enjoying each other’s company. That’s when his eyes caught on another pair already staring back at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Newt was leaning against the homestead with Alby and Minoh, being talked at not dissimilarly to Thomas’s situation with Chuck. They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Thomas looked away, settling to study the wood grain of the picnic table. But he still felt those eyes on him, and it made his skin prickle with a warm blush. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/——/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ben of the Builders, you are being banished for the attempted murder of Thomas the Newbie,” Alby declared before the gathered crowd of Gladers. The sun had started to set, leaving the glade in a shadowy haze. They were gathered around the East Door, a semicircle formed around Ben. The Keepers all held metal poles, and encroached on the feral looking boy before them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ben’s shrieks and pleas pierced through Thomas like the knife had earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure why he was even here, but Chuck had dragged him over insisting it would be worth a watch. He felt sick, honestly, guilty and horrified about what was being done to the boy who’d attacked him earlier. Thomas watched on, but his mind had shut off and was elsewhere. He thought about the animals bleating across the Glade, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and how Ben’s screams sounded like the pigs in the slaughterhouse. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought about how badly he wanted to be a runner and unravel the secrets of the maze, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and how the Grievers inside it would unravel Ben's body tonight and leave him scattered for the runners to find tomorrow. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Doors around the glade started to close, and Ben had been pushed to the other side. He was done watching, completely disinterested in seeing the boy be shut off from the sanctuary of the Glade to die a horrible and terrifying death. Thomas’s eyes were on the grass at his feet, choosing instead to watch the wind blow through the blades making them brush at his ankles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crowd started to disperse, but Thomas stayed put. He decided he didn’t want to sleep around the other boys tonight, and would sleep by the wall instead. He sat with his back to the massive stone slab, tilting his head up to stare at the sky. Or what he thought was the sky, it was hard to tell in this place. It wasn’t worth it to keep thinking on it, so he closed his eyes and tried to will himself off to sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/——-/ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dreams turned muddy red and purple and black behind his eyes, twisting into horrible shapes as creatures clawed at his skull. No, not creatures, tools. Scalpels and drills and band saws tearing at his body and featureless faces wearing lab coats poking and prodding and writing notes as he writhed in pain and begged them to stop. To let him go. To just let him die. “Thomas,” one of them spoke, far away and echoey. The red lights began to dim and the doctors started vanishing before him, “Tommy.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flinched, eyes cracking open. It was still dark outside and the glade buzzed with cicada in the grasses and trees. He was still by the wall but wasn’t sitting anymore, instead lying on his side with something warm under his head and a blanket placed over his body. He lifted his head slightly until he felt fingers brush through his hair, “You were dreaming, Tommy. You’re ok. Go back to sleep, you’re safe.” He let himself relax, head falling lightly back into Newts lap as he drifted back off, the fingers in his hair lulling him back into sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/——-/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When morning came, Newt had to drag Thomas to his feet, drag him to the showers, and drag him to the dressing rooms. He felt sick, his head both buzzing and empty at the same time. His body hurt, but Newts insistent hand on his wrist was the only thing keeping him grounded. His bandages were changed by the Med-jacks and Newt watched from the doorway the entire time. Then he was dragged to breakfast. The food was good, or it smelled good, but everything tasted like sawdust in his mouth. He settled on drinking his water and getting through half an apple before trying to push his food on to Newts plate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Tommy, you need to eat more than that. Setting you to work today, gotta get some energy goin’ in your scrawny limbs, yeah?” pushing the food, plus an extra slice of bacon, back onto Thomas’s plate. He took the bacon piece, put it in his mouth, and then dumped the rest onto Chucks plate on the other side of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Works fine, but ‘m not hungry,” Thomas grumbled, chewing up the rest of the bacon strip and swallowing it heavily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will be,” Newt muttered, “Probably think I’m a slinthead for putting you to work this soon, especially after yesterday. Won’t push ya too hard, but-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, work is probably the best thing to keep me going right now. Just give me something to do and keep my hands busy, I’m injured and stressed but I’m not fragile.” Thomas looked up at Newt, met with raised brows and slightly parted lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be harsh…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You weren’t, you just surprised me. Sorry for coddling you,” Newt gave a knowing and lightly apologetic smile, “But you’re right, that’s one of the reasons we run this place as tight and busy as we do. Keep busy and you don’t have time to get sad. Plain and simple.” Thomas just grunted at that, twisting the stem of his apple. Newt pursed his lips, getting up from the picnic bench. “Alright, enough moping you lug,” he teased, hand on Thomas’s back, “Get up, we’re goin’ to the fields. Chuck, off with ya too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys wandered over the Glades gardens, Newt picking up a bucket and clippers to pass to Thomas. They got to work weeding around a potato field, pulling up straggling greens and patting down the dirt mounds. The work was simple but it kept him distracted; until he spotted Minoh and Alby run into the Maze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Tommy-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to be a Runner.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, you what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A Runner. I want to go out into the maze.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>bloody clunk head. You do not.” Newt stared at him with a blank face, but his eyes looked sharper than blades. “The maze kills, mate. Why do ya think Alby and Minoh just ran out there, huh? They’re looking for Ben's corpse. Rottin’ and torn by the Grievers and probably scattered halfway to hell. So what’s gotten it into your slint brain that you want to be out there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas plucked a weed from the earth, “I just… feel like I’ll go crazy if I don’t get out there. I want to know everything about it, dig up its secrets instead of these weeds.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll go crazy if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>get out there, Tommy…” Newt grumbled, “You can’t just be buggin’ fast. Gotta be smart, and damn stable too. An’ after your first couple days, everyone’s gonna be keepin’ an eye on you to make sure you aren’t gonna get some screws loose upstairs. You gotta be the best of the best, and right now we’re just making sure you’re even ok.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So why aren’t you out there?” Thomas huffed, choosing to ignore the implication that the Gladers thought he might crack at any minute, “Best of the best, huh? I mean that sure sounds like you, Alby’s right hand and all. So what are you doing sitting here weeding with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloody clunk head </span>
  </em>
  <span>instead of out there getting everyone out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was,” Newt spat back, face turning sour, “Don’t forget I’ve been here a lot damn longer than you. There was barely anyone when I popped outta that box, and barely any of them are left. We all used to run it, but even a newbie a month ain’t enough to keep the numbers up when some poor shank dies twice as often. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>almost bloody died in that hell hole. Got rounded on by a Griever and it got real close to takin’ my leg as a trophy. Barely got away, and haven’t been back in since. I still think about if I’d been stung. Every time those boys run through the doors, every time I see someone go through the changing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>every time</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone gets banished just to face what I escaped. Every… I still… I…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, watching the older boy tumble down into his own thoughts and memories, starting to look hollow and ill. Thomas reached out, not even thinking about the action, just taking Newts hand from the dirt and squeezing it. Some part of him felt like he’d done it a million times before, but chasing the memory was his last priority right now. “Newt…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flinched, shaking out of his thoughts and coming back to the field with Thomas. Newt looked lost, drained like he’d just come out of the maze a moment ago. He searched Thomas’s face, looking for something the younger boy couldn’t place. Eventually he seemed to give up, settling to give Thomas’s hand a squeeze back before letting go and saying, “Just… don’t be so keen to throw your life away. Stay alive…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stay alive for me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/——-/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was mid day and Thomas was exhausted. The sun was hot and his mouth was dry. He got up from the fields, brushing off his jeans in a meager attempt to clean up. Newt had left him to finish an hour or so before, saying he needed to check on the other boys. Thomas jogged over to Frypan’s kitchen, getting himself a cup of water and an apple. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your babysitter leaves you for a second and you come in here to raid my kitchen,” a voice behind him said, making Thomas jump and spin around. Frypan stood there eying him, arms crossed and brows raised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry- I’m sorry, I was just…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m messing with you, Greenie. Lighten up,” the boy joked. He had his apron hung over his shoulder, and Thomas swore it was the first time he’d seen him without it on. He walked over and poured himself a glass of water, joining the other boy to look out over the Glade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know where he is? Newt, I mean. He said to let him know when the field was weeded, but I haven’t found him around here,” Thomas asked, taking a bite of his apple and leaning against the counter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frypan pointed across the glade to the West Door, humming to himself. Thomas squinted but sure enough could make out someone pacing in front of it. “Been out there for a while. Boys shoulda been back from searching by noon, but that’s come and gone. Still no sign of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe they’re just looking around some more,” Thomas tried, but Frypan just rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, maybe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok well then is there anyone who can go out there to look for them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All the other runners are already out, and no one else goes out there but them. Pretty sure you know that already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frypan downed the rest of his water and clapped his hands once, “I know he told ya to come get him but I’m pretty sure it’s best to just let him be right now. So how about you wash those hands up and help me out in here, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas nodded, heading to the sink to wash his hands and drinking glass, but all the while keeping an eye on the pacing figure by the Door.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short one, sorry about that. Just wanted to make sure you guys knew I was still writing. I’ll try to get another one out in a couple days.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Gladers ate well that night, Frypan making good use of the extra pair of hands in the kitchen. He told Thomas as they were serving up the meal that he’d be happy to have him working with the Cooks on a full time basis. He thanked him, telling the enthusiastic boy he’d think about it, but all the while knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied until he was running. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You did good work today, Greenie,” Frypan smiled, handing him two plates of food, “Get our wall watcher out there fed. I know that kid well enough to know he’ll pace till he passes out.” Thomas nodded, happy to not even need an excuse now to go check on Newt. He jogged of, Frypan calling after, “And get him off that shuckin’ leg! The medjacks ain’t gonna like it if he gets it all tensed up again!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas made his way across the Glade, glad to be away from the bustling camp. He liked getting to work, but he needed time with his thoughts and a throng of boys is the last place he’ll get to hear himself think. The sun was getting low in the sky, just about to dip below the top of the walls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found Newt at the East Door. The boy had been walking between the four, greeting the returning Runners all afternoon. His panic was evident and he wasn’t doing anything to hide it anymore. Thomas had grown more and more agitated in the kitchen; Frypan had hit him with a dish towel when he almost took his finger off while cutting a carrot because he wasn’t paying attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Newt-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>they?” He exploded, rounding on Thomas immediately. He had a wild look in his eyes and a flush down his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’ll be back any minu-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Doors will </span>
  <em>
    <span>close </span>
  </em>
  <span>any minute!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And they’ll be back before then,” Thomas put the plates down on the grass and grabbed Newt by the arms, “They’ll be back, ok? I promise. But exhausting yourself out here isn’t going to make them run faster.” Newt tried to say something but Thomas cut him off before he could start, “No, enough. Sit down and eat. Kitchens orders.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Newt stared at him, face still twisted with concern, but eventually he broke and nodded, shrugging off Thomas’s hands and lowering himself to the ground. His face flicked with a grimace, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. Thomas let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, sitting himself down next to Newt so they both faced the Door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Newt nibbled on a roasted carrot, “You didn’t come get me when you finished with the weeds.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Frypan found me first and put me to work in the kitchen before I could,” Thomas half lied, “Wants me to be a cook.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should, safer job than the one you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey I don’t know about that! Almost lost a finger to that carrot, viscous little things,” Thomas joked, earning a snort out of Newt. He watched the boy relax a bit, stretching out his legs in front of him. Thomas frowned at how his right leg shook slightly when he moved it. They sat in silence for a while, both of them finishing their food, the Glade getting darker by the second.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re dead, Tommy,” Newt eventually said. Thomas’s head whipped to stare at him, sure he hadn’t heard the boy just say that. “I didn’t want to say it but it’s true. ‘as to be. They’re dead. Minoh knows the damn maze better than anyone. Knows the routs, knows the traps, knows when it closes. Three minutes before those doors shut. It’s too late.” He got up, grabbing their plates and wiping at his face with his arm. Thomas grabbed his hand for a moment, looking up at Newt who was trying to leave. He had tears on his cheeks and his body looked like it carried the weight of the world. And technically it did. If Alby was dead, Newt was in charge. It was his responsibility to keep these boys alive. Thomas could tell that knowledge was crushing him. He slipped his hand out of Thomas’s grasp, leaving with a wavering, “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas watched him for a moment, before turning back to the maze. He frowned into the darkness, unable to wipe Newts' broken look from his mind. He slowly got to his feet, decided to head back and try to comfort the boy. He couldn’t bring Alby and Minoh back, but he could make sure Newt didn’t feel alone. A loud grinding noise made him jump; the Doors were closing. He stared past the slowly closing gap. Suddenly he saw movement at the end of the corridor, stepping back for a moment scared that a Griever was rounding the corner. But looking closer he saw two figures, lugging their way towards the Door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minoh had Alby hanging from his arm over his shoulder. The Glade leader was being dragged forwards, clearly unable to support his own weight. He slipped to the ground, and Minoh resorted to dragging him  on the ground by his arms. Thomas caught his breath, shouting at the camp, “NEWT! Newt they’re here, they’re coming!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Newt had made it back to the homestead, but when he heard Thomas, he broke into a hobbling sprint. All the Gladers started running over, desperate to catch a look at the commotion. But looking back at the Door, Thomas knew they weren’t going to make it. The gap was getting smaller and the boys were still a hundred feet away. His muscles tensed, adrenaline pumping fast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thomas, don’t!” He made out behind him, Newt getting closer, “Don’t you bloody dare!” But his nerves were firing and there was a rush in Thomas’s ears. He started forward, a hand clasping on his shoulder but slipping without a good grip. “Tommy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>NO!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He slipped past the closing block of stone, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>TOMMY-“</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The walls shut, and he was left in silent darkness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are the dumbest shucking slint headed knob clunker </span>
  <em>
    <span>ass hole</span>
  </em>
  <span> I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> laid my shucking eyes on, Greenie,” Minoh roared as he jogged close. “But you know what, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Doesn’t matter now, because you’re going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>shucking die in here so who the hell cares</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow you’re a ray of sunshine,” Thomas huffed, crouching down by Alby. The boy was sickly pale, which was an unsettling sight considering he was a dark skinned lad. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweet and he huffed out breaths as if he were being punched. “What happened to him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stung, clunk face, what do you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you guys said the Grievers only come out at nigh-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clearly not always,” Minoh sang, “Now would you shove off, just let me die in peace.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you stop saying that? Jeeze dude, c’mon there’s gotta be somewhere we can take Alby to be safe until morning,” Thomas stood, reaching out a hand to help the resigned boy to his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minoh slapped his hand away, “Safe? You seriously don’t get it, it’s the maze at </span>
  <em>
    <span>night</span>
  </em>
  <span>, NOWHERE is safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thomas crouched down and took one of Alby’s arms, placing it around his shoulder and starting to haul him up. Minoh rolled his eyes, “What are you doing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want to die just sitting here, go for it,” Thomas bit, lugging away with Alby’s limp body, “But I’m gonna at least try to make it out of here in one piece, and that’s not going to happen just sitting here.” He kept going, slow but moving nonetheless. Getting to the end of the corridor, the path split. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Left, shuckface,” Minohs voice sighed, coming up behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, done with your pity party already?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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